Tune-Up
by WinterVines
Summary: At the auto repair shop, the cars aren't the only things that require some fine-tuning. Levy makes herself at home in the grease and dirt while she waits, and Gajeel doesn't like the look Lily is giving him one bit. GaLe. AU [Complete]
1. Chapter 1

Loosely based on one of the many times I had to go to the mechanics-minus all the fun stuff.

* * *

Tune Up

* * *

Well, it wasn't the shadiest place Levy had ever been to.

In fact, the store looked clean—as far as car repair shops went. On her right, two gray couches were lined against windows that wrapped around the entire front, although the cushions had seen better days. The counter on the left directed a path toward the hallway that led into the back and shop proper, but the walls were cluttered with photos, awards, and other things that made the place seem more alive and used than anything seedy.

Just because it was located down a dark side street well off the main road didn't mean anything. The rain was probably skewing her judgment.

The bell chimed above her as she stamped through the door, water streaming off her clothes and making puddles on the floor. The short trek from her car to the door had her blue hair in strings sticking to her neck. She could feel her socks squish inside her shoes.

A large, middle-aged man behind the wooden counter looked up as she entered, flashing her a grin that contradicted his many piercings and wild mop of dark hair. It knocked a few years off his age too. The denim coverall he sported had a name sewn into his left pocket, but it was too far away to read. At least someone was here.

Levy brushed her hair out of her face and smiled back, opening her mouth to introduce herself. Before she could speak, the door rang again as Jet and Droy stomped inside.

Jet was continuing his rant from earlier. It had started this morning, but he was adamantly against her newest mechanic prospect. Droy didn't say much, but she knew he agreed with Jet's assessment from the way he nervously shifted and kept quiet. Now that they were actually here, her friends' newest idea was to keep her away from it.

"Really, it's not a big deal, Levy. We can take you—" Jet began.

The man got up then, coming around the desk to meet them. As he stood, Levy realized just how tall he was—at least six feet, which meant he towered over all of them, even Jet. "Morning," he man greeted, leaning against the desk and crossing his arms. The light glinted off the piercings in his nose.

Even without looking behind her, Levy could picture Jet and Droy's horrified reactions. She shot the man an apologetic smile and turned around, squinting as the glare from Jet's still-running headlights shined across the windows.

As predicted, both men had wide eyes and slack jaws. Droy's hands were clenching in the pockets of his coat. He recovered first and awkwardly looked off to the side. Jet, unfortunately, did not.

His orange hair bobbed as he turned to Levy and shook. "I think we should l-leave," he stammered out, his gaze shifting from Levy to over her shoulder.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, irritably swiping at the blue strands that had fallen in her face again. It was just past nine but she was already tired. While she loved these two like brothers, they could really be overwhelming. This morning's argument, in which they tried to convince her to not come here, had even caused her to break her headband on accident. And it had been a favorite.

"You're being rude," she told them, putting her hands on her hips giving them a flat stare. "I think the two of you should go home."

Jet looked like he was about to retort, but his comment died on his tongue as Levy let her gaze set in. Honestly, they acted as if they'd never seen a piercing before. She knew they were just worried about her, but waiting any longer to solve the mysterious noise from her car made her stomach roil.

When Droy made to speak up too, Levy held up a hand and shook her head. The door opened again with their retreat, and Levy brought her attention back to the man with a sheepish look. She strode forward and awkwardly twisted her dripping sleeve back so she could stick out her hand without dribbling all over him.

"Sorry we were rude," she said. "I'm Levy McGarden."

The man had an amused quirk to his lips as he shook her hand. It engulfed her, and she could tell he'd spent years at his craft by the callouses on his palm. "Metalicana Redfox, owner," he shot back. "We help you?"

"I hope so," she said, sighing heavily. "A friend... well, a friend of a friend really, recommended you guys. Natsu said if there was something wrong with my car that I should come here."

Recognition flashed across the man's face, and the tight winding in her shoulders eased. "Ah, Igneel's boy."

Then, he went past a large window that looked into the shop, stuck his head through a doorway, and yelled, "Oi, Gajeel, get your ass out here."

Levy didn't have to wait long before Metalicana returned, followed by impatient, heavy steps. What could've been the shop owner's clone stepped through the doorway, and she immediately pegged them for father and son.

This Gajeel's hair was longer and wilder, and he had at least double the piercings of the older man, but the crimson shade of his eyes was identical. There was also a familiar cut to his jaw and the way he held himself that betrayed the relation. She pegged him for around her age, though she didn't know any of her friends who matched his bulk. He looked like he could bench at least three of her, though maybe that wasn't saying much when she was five nothing.

She tried not to shiver as she took stock. How could anyone be that tall and built? It was sort of amazing really. And attractive, though that was probably saved for a better time. Even the studs dotting his ears, nose, eyebrows, and chin didn't detract from the overall look. The scowl sort of did though.

He grunted a greeting and crossed his arms across his chest, pulling at the denim of his work uniform. It wasn't the most impressive "happy to be here" looks, but she supposed most people only came here when there was a problem. She knew what it was like to be on the opposite end of angry customers.

Levy nodded at Gajeel politely before Metalicana asked what was wrong with her car. With a sigh, she brushed her hair back and made a face as she thought of how to describe it. Gajeel made an impatient noise and she shot him a dark look for a moment before she remembered herself. Surprisingly, Metalicana did too, only he wasn't as subtle or sorry about it.

"I've been to two different places," she began, her hands coming up automatically to animate her story. "One says it's my engine, and the other wants to replace the entire muffler system." Both ideas were really expensive, and something told her that wasn't it. And according to Lucy, Natsu had seemed really confident that these guys could help her out.

Gajeel screwed up his nose, but it probably wasn't in sympathy for her if his earlier actions were anything to judge by. It did interesting things to his piercings, though.

"I don't know a lot about cars, but it _does_ sound like..." She trailed off as she struggled to find a way to explain it without trying to imitate the noise herself. Those commercials weren't really lying when they showed how ridiculous those people sounded.

"Yer boyfriends don't know how to look after a car?" Gajeel sort of ground out, a frown pulling his lips down.

Levy stared at Gajeel with a crinkled brow until her brain caught up with what he meant. For a second, she was worried that he saw their first embarrassing scene, but then she felt that burning on the back of her head.

Whipping around, she caught Jet and Droy lingering in the parking lot, shooting her worried glances as their attention shifted between her and Gajeel. Levy's cheeks heated up. Geez, she wasn't a kid! _They_ were the ones acting like children, with how much she had to keep tabs on them. She sent them a withering glare, and this time, they actually drove off.

There was a rustle, a thunk, and then Gajeel hissed, "The hell was that for?" as she turned around. He was scowling at his father and shifting awkwardly on one leg.

Levy buried her amused smile by turning her glare on Gajeel. "They are _not_ my boyfriends!"

He didn't look convinced, but he did look sort of surprised as he raised a brow at her. Embarrassment was creeping up her neck—what was wrong with her? She was normally much more reserved. Or at least polite. Now she could feel the heat coming off her cheeks. Ignoring Gajeel, she turned to Metalicana instead.

"It's like an echo of the engine," she said. That was why the first diagnosis had worried her. "I'm pretty sure it was on the passenger side in front. It's barely noticeable in town, but I really hear it on the highway. It just... doesn't sound right," she finished lamely.

The two men shared a look. "Gajeel will look at it," Metalicana said.

The younger one narrowed his eyes but he didn't refute it, stepping up to her and looking expectant as he ran a hand through his thick mane of hair. Levy tried not to notice how he loomed over her as she dug into her coat pocket for her keys. She did, however, give him a skeptical look with her own brow raised when she put the jingling set in his hand.

For whatever reason, that made him grin at her. Before she could react, he reached out and messed up her hair, ignoring her sharp, "Hey!"

She swiped at his hand, but she only hit air. She heard a "Gihi!" and he was around her and out the door.

Metalicana called after him, "And get that look off your face!"

In response, Gajeel flipped him off.

* * *

Winter, _what are you doing?_ Instead of finishing up my term projects, I'm feeding my writing addiction. Good job, priorities.

Thank you for reading! Updates should be shortly-this won't be a super long fic. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Ugh, Gajeel is _so hard to write_. Thank you to all the reviewers I couldn't respond to! (Due to anonymous or disabling PMs.)

* * *

Gajeel scowled as he stepped out into the rain. Damn that old man and his heavy boots.

His shin throbbed with every step, but he refused to let the limp show. That bastard would probably just rib him about it later. And then get Lily in on it. There was probably a bruise, too.

He got all that customer service crap, since that's what kept them in business and all that, but if his old man thought he was gonna turn on the charm like a moron for some shrimpy woman, he had another thing coming.

Over his shoulder, he caught her bright blue hair bobbing as she laughed at something his father said. The old man was a good actor—he had no trouble putting the charm on in the shop. But Metalicana was just as abrasive as Gajeel was most of the time. He could pretend to be a gentleman or whatever the hell all he wanted, but the old man was just as crude. Had an odd sense of humor too. That she was actually laughing meant there was hope yet. At least for her.

Gajeel glared down the road as he stomped through the mud to her car, the direction those idiots drove off in. From the back, he hadn't caught what happened when they came in, but he heard the whine in the thin one's voice well enough. Their panicked faces as they looked in the window, too. As if they would've had the guts to come in anyway.

Seeing them hang on her just pissed him off. Like ugly, lost puppies. He was more of a cat person.

The woman, whatever the hell her name was, carried herself with confidence—at least enough to talk back to him, which didn't happen every day. She didn't need a babysitter. A woman should know how to stand on her own feet. Or at least that was true for the types he got along with.

He couldn't help but grin at the angry look on her face when he ruffled her hair. It'd been a split second decision. He'd just been curious what she would do. Feisty but not vindictive. That, he could work with. Improving her mood had just been a bonus, since it didn't seem like she was just going to stomp out. Maybe that'd make the old man happy and get him of his back about his _surly attitude_.

Gajeel let the rain roll down his thick hair as he eyed the only foreign car in the lot. It was an older make, probably a few decades ahead of his time. Likely wasn't something she picked out herself then—although the cobalt paint job made it hard to tell since it was so close to her own coloring. Maybe those nut jobs had a point when they said cars and people started looking like each other eventually.

He walked around the car slowly, inspecting for damage. Overall, it looked like it was in pretty good shape, at least on the outside. When he circled back around, he took a minute to admire the craftsmanship. They just didn't make cars like they used to. Modern ones almost had more wires than metal with all the fancy electronic gadgets they put in now. That didn't mean he couldn't handle it—there wasn't anything he couldn't fix. It was just a pain in the ass.

Sort of like short, blue-haired women with lapdogs.

Twisting the key in the door to unlock it, Gajeel stopped for a second and wrung out his hair. Not that a little rainwater was going to hurt the seats, but it was mostly for his own benefit. He didn't want to sit in a damp seat. Besides, in the very rare instance in which they couldn't help her out—or she didn't want them to, since their place was the best—it probably wouldn't leave the greatest impression if she leaned back into a sopping chair.

A look into the rain-dripping window reinforced that thought. From what he could see, the entire front seat was covered in books. And there were more in the back. Gajeel fought back a sneer.

It figured that she was one of those scholarly types. Was probably why they clashed. Being up on their high horses always made him feel out of place, like what he and the old man did was beneath them, and that pissed him off something fierce. Even more than her two accessories. Women who constantly had to prove how much better or smarter they are were nightmares. And mostly, he told them so. He liked women who didn't mind getting a little dirty—either physically for metaphorically. That part didn't matter much to him.

He didn't have the knack for word battles and that other sophisticated shit—minus a few jabs here and there. But that didn't always win people over. A lot of people just got pissy with him, like the shrimp. And while it was fun to make them angry, that wasn't real productive for business. He just hoped this woman kept her trap shut.

Gajeel yanked open the door and tried to get in. Tried.

He wasn't looking when he put his foot on the floorboard and leaned in. But he did start paying attention as his knee rapped sharply against the wheel. Gajeel flailed for a second as he pitched backward. With a stomp of his boot, he halted his fall, but his shin throbbed.

As soon as he was steady, his first reaction was to check the shop window to make sure nobody saw. Both of their backs were turned to something on the wall. Dodged a bullet there.

"What the hell?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his dark head.

With a scowl, he found the seat was pulled forward as far as it would go. Considering the driver, he was surprised she could reach the pedals even with the boost. Reaching down, he pulled the bar and yanked the seat back enough to get in, picking a strand of stringy blue hair from the head rest before he shut the door.

The rain was a tinny thrum on the roof as he checked the car out. He had to hunch a little to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling—not like he sat up straight when he drove anyway. The seat didn't go back far enough for the sort of leg room he wanted either, so it was a good thing he didn't have to drive it long.

For the most part, the car was clean... if all the books were ignored. He expected them to be girly romance novels and other junk, but that's not what he found.

"The hell is this?"

Stacks of horror novels spilled onto the floor. He prodded another one with a finger like it would bite him. Nautical welding? And was that a manual on medieval weapons up against the passenger door?

Shaking his head, he turned the key in the ignition to light up the dash but not catch the engine. As the symbols flashed, he checked for any odd ones that stayed. The check engine light was on, but he was willing to bet it was a loose gas cap or something—a lot of cars had that. He'd put it on the tester later just to make sure anyway.

He had to brush an orange headband tied to the wheel out of the way to check the mileage. A quick check with the oil change sticker in the top corner of the windshield told him that she was at least semi-competent at maintaining the vehicle. Or at least had someone to remind her. It was a little relieving really. He'd had people come in who didn't even know an oil change was a thing til their engine was frying oil and thick, black smoke was curling out of it.

He popped the hood out of habit as he got out of the car again. It was always best to start with simple solutions to problems. The oil wasn't what was wrong with the car, but he checked it anyway. He'd run the battery test when he put it in the garage. He wasn't the smoothest talker, but nobody could claim he half-assed his job. There better not be any bitching later.

When he got back in the car, he turned the engine over and was nearly blasted away by the music screeching through the speakers. With a frown he nearly turned it off until he realized it wasn't that annoying hip-hop. It was actually sort of like something he would listen to. He didn't take Shorty for a rocker.

He supposed she was... tolerable. And maybe she wasn't so bad to look at.

Through the window, he could just barely see her brightly-colored hair over the logo stickers on the windows as she walked around the front room of the shop. She definitely wasn't his usual type, but...

She wasn't what he was expecting. Not like he could say much, since he was just as guilty of that judgmental shit as everyone else who pegged him. They were right too, most of the time. But she didn't fit that stereotypical mold. It was sort of refreshing.

Sure, she was small physically, but there was a bigness in how she came across. Probably that scholarly thing. But there were perks to being a know-it-all. She didn't just get pissy at his attitude—she gave back. A grin stretched across his face.

He wasn't surprised that the two other places made something it. He _was_ sort of surprised she let them get away with it. A lot of the seedy shops had habits of sucking money out of dumb people. And she didn't strike him as dumb.

He hated assholes like that. Shops like them were part of why he and his old man got into the business. The world was shitty enough without people taking advantage of every little thing.

Gajeel would figure out what was wrong with her car so she'd have no complaints later. And if he noticed other problems, maybe he'd deal with them too. Because that'd be the right thing to do. For _business_.

And yeah, being pretty didn't hurt her odds either.

* * *

Thank you for reading! More to come soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting term projects done? What's that?

* * *

Levy couldn't claim her morning was boring. So much had already happened that it was hard to believe it wasn't even ten yet. Still, she wondered how long she would be hanging out. At least she had the day off. She didn't even have any books with her to pass time. They were all in the car. Her fingers twitched at being empty, so she curled them into her dripping sleeve.

The place didn't bother her really, even if her nose had twinged a little at the foreign smell of oil and grease. It sort of disappeared after a while.

Would they even be able to figure out what was wrong with her car? They hadn't seemed too worried about it when—what was his name, Gajeel?—went out the door. Then again, they probably saw people in her exact position all the time. Sort of like how she got used to frantic readers not being able to find the books they needed.

Levy ran a hand through her soon-to-be-snarly hair, sneaking a glance out the window. Gajeel paced around her car, seemingly not minding as water coated him. The denim of his coverall was starting to darken as it got drenched.

Was he going to get annoyed that he was out in the rain? He didn't look angry, but that didn't mean anything. It didn't seem to take much to set him off. Maybe that was why Metalicana was stationed at the desk.

She sighed as she shifted uncomfortably. Her jacket was pretty heavy, and the end of her dress was sticking awkwardly to the back of her legs. In a half-sneaky swipe, she tried to take a step and pull the garment down a little as she wandered around the room.

There was a stack of magazines on a table next to one of the couches, but they were all auto-related. The one on top had a mudding ATV on the cover. What was more interesting was the numerous photos hanging on the walls. Some of them were actual pictures, but there were some newspaper clippings too. They detailed competitions and articles about the shop mostly. It went along with the shelves of gleaming awards tacked up here and there. She tried to spot the name on one, but it was too high up for her to see, even on tiptoes.

She huffed and brushed back hair that had fallen in front of her eyes again, wishing she had another headband. How could Lucy stand letting her bangs fall across her face all the time?

The thought of her friend made a flash of pink on the wall catch her eye. Was that Natsu? Levy leaned in closer to the wall, keeping her arms folded across her stomach so she dripped on as little as possible.

In the photo, there were four men—probably two boys and their fathers. She recognized Natsu right off the bat because she knew nobody else with that shade of salmon hair. A taller red-headed man stood behind him with a large grin on his face. The other two were Gajeel and Metalicana. No wonder Natsu said to come here. Apparently they all were good friends.

...or at least their fathers were. Gajeel and Natsu were butting heads in the image, scowling, snarling, and looking on the cusp of a fight. Lucy said Natsu and Gray did the same thing. Often.

Levy shook her head and smiled a little, trying to ignore the tiny flecks of water that splattered outward. As she walked along the wall, she found other pictures. There were a few more with Natsu or the red-headed man, as well as another young man who looked like Gajeel, only with short, neat hair. The eyes were the same, though, so maybe he was a relation.

Two images that were especially notable were of Gajeel in a white suit, holding a guitar in front of a microphone. It sort of looked like a bar setting. The other one was him covered in no less than five fuzzy cats with the strangest look on his face. Levy giggled.

Heavy steps behind her betrayed Metalicana's approach. He caught was she was looking at and grinned. "Hard to believe that sour puss outside is the kid in these, huh," he said, nodding his head toward the wall.

"Well," she began, glancing over another picture. Gajeel was holding up some sort of award. "At least he's not frowning in some of these."

Metalicana let out a hearty laugh that could've shaken the frames loose from the walls. "He takes some getting used to," he admitted. Then, the corner of his mouth quirked suspiciously. "Yer one step ahead of the game with that sass, though."

Immediately, Levy's cheeks erupted into flames. One of her palms flew up to cover it. "I don't know what's wrong with me today. I'm so sor—"

The taller man waved her off. "That's the way to handle Gajeel. He respects bravado. If it's genuine," he added, crossing his arms loosely.

She recognized that look from her own father's face. The one that said, "you better not be messing with my kid." For whatever reason, that made her feel better. The two men had a... unique relationship.

Thankfully, the sentiment was genuine on her end, even if it was sort of embarrassing. "I've had a lot of practice," she said, thinking of Jet and Droy. She sighed. Sometimes they got so wrapped up in arguments with each other that they only listened if she intruded with some snappy comment.

Outside, Gajeel had popped her hood and was leaning under it. Why he was doing that in the rain and not in the shop was beyond her. For a moment, she had a sinking worry in her stomach that the car hadn't started. Even if it had been her father's, it wasn't that old yet!

Metalicana was watching too. "Poor attitude aside, the brat's actually pretty good at what he does. He'll figure out the problem."

Levy smiled at him but couldn't hold back the cold shiver that shook her. She frowned as she pulled her sleeve away from her skin. It snapped back with a wet pop. Would her skin wrinkle too badly if she sat down? The couch cushions looked like a cat or dog had maybe had a fight with them, and a few dark streaks decorated the dull fabric, but her socks might literally be turning to mush as she kept standing on them.

The shop owner looked at her for a second and then nodded toward the hallway. "There's a dryer in back. Probably something to wear around here, too," he said.

She visibly brightened, brushing her hair out of her face.

"It'll be clean at least. Mostly." Metalicana shrugged, a motion that said "what do you expect?" She supposed it _was_ a mechanic shop, so she'd take what she could get.

"Something dry would be great," she said.

The man had that strange grin on his face again as he motioned her to follow him down the hall. He entered a room hardly bigger than a closet, though she was surprised to see some sort of cot stuffed into it. It was hard to tell what else was in there, since Metalicana took up most of the view as he rummaged around in something, but were those pieces of metal scattered on the floor? A couple loose bolts hovered by the door frame too, but she hadn't noticed until Metalicana let out a sharp curse and limped for a second. Levy tried not to laugh.

She thanked him as he handed her a large blob of denim, a towel that had seen better days, and pointed her to the bathroom so she could change. When she unfolded the outfit, she found it to be an old coverall. Gajeel's name was embroidered on the left pocket.

It was going to drown her but at least it was dry. Throwing off her jacket, she shimmied out of her dress as the orange fabric tried to stick to her skin. She made a face as it peeled away. Taking off her sleeves, they joined the bright pile on the floor. At least her undergarments were dry enough. Even better was the thick pair of thick socks stuffed into one of the pockets of the coveralls. She nearly squealed in happiness as she removed the cotton mush between her toes.

Gajeel had to be at least a foot taller than her. The material engulfed her as she stepped into it, but Levy's mood was brightening. She rolled the sleeves and legs up so she could move properly and then slid the zipper up so it didn't show a ton of skin. She felt a little like a jean marshmallow, but she was a _dry_ marshmallow.

Picking up her clothes, she moved back into the main room, reflexively brushing her hair back. Now if she could make her hair stay put and find a solution to her car, today would be a good day.

Metalicana was at the desk again, but he looked up as she entered. "You lookin' for a job?" he asked. "It's like you work here."

Levy laughed at his joke and tried not to feel self-conscious. She probably looked ridiculous in Gajeel's humongous clothes. The bundle in her arms was starting to make a wet crease against her stomach as she wondered if the dryer was in the shop.

The shop owner nodded toward the hall again. "Dryer's down past the bathroom. Help yourself."

Smiling gratefully, she padded back down the hall, peering into that extra room as she passed. The cot looked relatively used as the blankets were askew and there didn't seem to be dust on anything. What she hadn't seen before was a very narrow dresser pressed into the corner. There were other clothes haphazardly folded on top of it, and she caught another coverall hanging on the wall with Gajeel's name on it. Did he live here sometimes?

Shrugging, she puzzled out how she would go about asking something like that without offending him. She only belatedly realized she was suspiciously curious about a man she had only met for a few minutes.

* * *

Thank you for reading! More coming soon.


	4. Chapter 4

My apologies for the delay—I was at a conference and then I've been sick.

* * *

When Gajeel trudged back into the shop, water dripping steadily onto the floor, the shrimpy woman wasn't there.

"Took you long enough," Metalicana said.

Gajeel scowled at him. He knew damn well it hadn't taken that long. And after a short jaunt through town and over to the highway, he'd pegged what was wrong with Shorty's car. The sooner she got here, the sooner he could have the job done. Working damp was going to be a pain in the ass as it was.

He stomped over to the desk and shook out his sopping hair with a hand, purposefully leaning toward the counter. The water droplets flew, and if they happened to land on the stack of papers his pops was looking at... Gajeel smirked at his old man's look.

"What'd ya do, eat her?" Gajeel called, looking around for the short woman. For a second, he was amused by the mental image of a large, shiny dragon lazily picking bones out of its teeth.

Then, he caught the way his old man's face changed. Gajeel did not like that shit-eating grin at all. The bastard was up to something.

Before he figured out what it was, one of his coveralls walked out of the hallway.

It took a second for his lagging brain to catch up to what he was looking at. Her hair was nearly the shame shade as that old denim. Because she was so damn small, she'd had to roll the limbs up just to walk, giving her donut-shaped bulges around her elbows and ankles. It was still pretty baggy too, in more than just the good places. She should've looked ridiculous.

And then he noticed that the zipper slid down a little as she messed with her hair. Her collarbone was showing. Suddenly, he was aware that she didn't have much on underneath the coverall. Maybe he'd never wash it again.

"Looks good, huh?" Metalicana said, nodding his head toward the woman. "She'd fit right in."

Shorty laughed and shuffled her feet awkwardly. "My dad always said I should've been a mechanic," she joked.

Except that brought up a whole new mental image for Gajeel—one with a jean shirt tied under the chest and grease smudges and wrenches. A burning started in his nose and he had to stop thinking _right fucking_ _now_.

Gajeel coughed and turned away for a second, catching his pops. The smirk hadn't left his face. Gajeel shot him a dirty look.

Shorty didn't see the exchange since she was messing with the mop of hair that was falling into her face. She brushed it back from her forehead and held it there with one hand while she put the other one on her hip and cocked it to the side. Tilting her head, she stared at him. Gajeel arched a metal-studded eyebrow.

"Can I use that?"

At his confused look, she pointed to his left pocket. His eyes landed on the gray handkerchief sticking out. The hell did she want that for?

"Uh... 'kay," he answered, automatically handing it over. It was still slightly damp from the rain, but it was mostly clean. Probably. Not his fault if it wasn't.

A smile lit her face as soon as she grabbed it, and then, in only a few seconds, she had the thing rolled up in a band, flipped her hair forward, tied the cloth behind her head, and tossed her head back. And the damn scrap of fabric stayed, holding her blue mop back like that's what it was for.

Gajeel looked on in slight awe—but it wasn't on his face. Witchcraft is what it was.

"Now that you brats are done making eyes at each other," his old man began, and Gajeel scowled at him. Like hell he _made eyes_. He knew that bastard was setting him up.

Shorty squeaked a little and crossed her arms over her stomach, and inwardly, he smirked as her cheeks got a little red. He had no problem if she made eyes at _him_.

But Pops had better wipe that look off his face or Gajeel would do it for him, he thought. "So, what was it?"

Gajeel ignored his old man and talked to the woman instead.

"Like a howl when goin' over thirty-five?" he started. Her eyes got focused and she took a half step closer to him without noticing. She started nodding her head along with his explanation. "Really whines when you turn the wheel?"

"Yes!" she shouted, her heels coming off the floor. Then she rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. Got excited pretty easily. In any other setting, that'd be fun, but he had to remind himself that this was work.

Still, Gajeel couldn't help but smirk—no car was a challenge for him. "Wheel bearing," he announced. "But, I'll put it up on the rig to be sure."

Shorty nodded, but she had a thoughtful look smeared across her forehead. "What does that do, exactly?"

His old man started messing with the computer, probably checking for parts, so that left him to explain. Gajeel tried not to notice how the bastard's grin kept getting bigger.

He tried to keep his lecture down to the basics—if he used a lot of technical babble, he had a feeling that scholarly head on her would just demand more talking, and he wanted to actually finish this job some time today. Gajeel gestured as he told her bearings were what kept her wheels spinning and attached to the car. They tended to shake a lot when bad.

She seemed to get it, doing more of that head bobbing, and dammit if it didn't look like she was actually listening and maybe understanding what he was saying. That didn't happen often, as Lil' or his old man would all-too-happily remind him.

When he finished, she put a slender finger up to her chin. "So," she started, "if I don't get it fixed, the wheel could fall off."

Gajeel shrugged. "Could," he said, though she hadn't really been asking. He was mildly impressed she had reached that conclusion without anyone spelling it out—he kept forgetting bookworms liked to know everything. "Or it could just fuck up the steering and cause a crash."

His pops pulled a face at his language but Gajeel waved him off. This was a shop; she could deal.

Shorty frowned, but it wasn't directed at him. Which was good, because it wasn't his damn fault she had issues—despite what other customers had whined.

Still, was better to be safe than sorry. He saw that wrinkle in her brow and played it safe. Sometimes reassurances worked.

"Could be worse," he told her, but that didn't seem to change her mood at all. Oh well. Best he could do. Or at least he thought so until his old man gave him a look that clearly said _do better_. This customer service shit was a pain in the ass.

"Maybe that's not it anyway," he added, but it didn't even sound convincing to himself. Answer to that one was simple—naturally, he wasn't wrong.

"Ears gettin' rusty with age, boy?"

Gajeel shot back, "Speak fer yourself, old man. It's a wheel bearing or I'll do it for free."

He could've spit at the self-satisfied look on Pops' face. He _knew_ better, knew his pops looked for ways to provoke him, but it was just too hard to ignore the bait.

"That's not necessary," the shrimp said. The pout on her face made her cheeks puff out like some angry fish. Geez, was she really glaring at him again? The hell was she getting so offended about.

That's what he got for trying to be a nice guy. Never mind that he only said it 'cause his old man egged him on.

"Don't count on it, short stuff," he recovered, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't miss the way she eyed the piercings on them. "I ain't wrong."

There was a beat of quiet, and then she yanked both arms akimbo. "It's _Levy,_" she hissed.

Gajeel just grinned.

* * *

Thank you for reading! And thanks to all the anonymous/guest reviewers.


	5. Chapter 5

An update before I head to uni! Thank you to all the guest reviewers!

* * *

Levy's cheeks were puffed, still slightly fuming as Gajeel slogged back out into the rain—at least that's what the heat radiating off her face told her.

Honestly, she wasn't that short! A muffled chuckle came from near the desk, and Levy shot the shop owner a dark look. The older man's grin just got wider as he ducked behind the computer screen to avoid her gaze.

Seriously, she had a name, and it wasn't "Shorty" or any of the variants he was likely to come up with. Her fingers tugged at a fraying pocket absently. What kind of customer service was that?

Gajeel opened her car door and slid in carefully, ducking so he didn't hit the roof. It would serve him right if he did! Jet and Droy had both fallen victim to that a few times. At least _she_ never worried about hitting her head on things.

Levy watched as he started up her car and winced as the lights shined in her eyes. Then, there was a burst of sound that barely made it into the shop—one of her CDs.

The guitar rifts soothed her annoyance and tugged a smile onto her face. That she could even hear the music a little bit meant he'd had it cranked too. She'd have to tell Lucy that she wasn't the only one who didn't heed noise ordinances.

Her fingers tapped a beat on her elbow as Gajeel swung out and drove around the side to the bay doors. Rock beats crashed through the open door in the hallway as the car entered the garage, lasting just a few seconds before the engine was killed. Behind her, Metalicana mumbled something, but she didn't catch it. She'd bet it was a complaint.

It was stupid, but for whatever reason, the simple familiarity in how they liked their music made Gajeel's nicknames seem more personal and not so insulting.

Her hands flew up to her cheeks. Two dark spots stared at her in the window reflection, peeking from behind her fingers. Really, what was wrong with her today?

It was hard to ignore the noises as Gajeel puttered around in the garage, but Levy counted to a hundred a couple of times while she stared her reflection down, trying to clear the red from her cheeks with sheer willpower. So what if she found him attractive? That didn't mean she could suddenly lose all her wits and start spouting off like her mother had never taught her any manners. And that didn't mean it was okay for him to be rude!

After a few more minutes of inner argument, which somehow had strayed to speculating if he had other piercings she couldn't see (and where), she heard the groaning of her car being raised up. Too curious for her own good, Levy sidled toward the main counter and tried to look into the shop through the bay window without going into the shop proper. Since she was so short, she had to lean pretty far, leaving her toes dangling off the floor.

A snort made her turn her head to see Metalicana shaking his with an amused look on his face. He nodded toward the garage. "You want a closer look, go in."

She blinked at him and slid back to the floor, straightening the coverall. "That's okay?" Weren't there liability things they had to worry about?

He shrugged. "If you can handle him, be my guest."

With an excited squeal that she muffled in her hands, she slipped over to the doorway and peered in. She hadn't been kidding when her dad said a mechanic would be a good choice for her—she loved to know how things worked. A car was a system just like any body process, computer code, or language. It was fascinating.

The shop was small but cozy, she supposed. It could fit two cars up on jacks, and the walls were lined with shelves full of parts and tools she couldn't name. Carts and standalone power tools took up space in aisles. Nearly across from her but closer to the back wall was a desk sporting a computer. Even from here, she could see all the sticky notes clinging to the screen. On her right, the closest garage door was opened about two feet, letting in a nice breeze despite the rain. It probably evened out the heat from all the equipment.

Gajeel didn't notice her as he pulled a wheeled tool chest toward him, gathering up things he'd need and checking different things on the underside of her car every time he passed under it. There was no way she could've done that without worrying it was going to fall and squish her like a pancake. All of the gruffness from their earlier encounters was gone—his social awkwardness didn't apply to his work. She stayed put and tried not to hover as he starting monkeying with her car.

The corner of her mouth lifted as she spied a tan headband in his hair. With all that wild mane tied back, she could see his face clearly, including all the piercings that dotted his ears and the sides of his nose. He reached up to mess with her front passenger tire, and then she saw the dark smear of grease tracked across his nose like he'd scratched an itch.

She didn't stifle her giggle quick enough.

Hands still above him, he glanced over his shoulder at her. Levy felt her cheeks heat up again—his crimson eyes were pretty vivid. She pivoted on a foot to make her retreat back into the main room when he suddenly called, "Oi, Shorty."

The coverall nearly touched her ears as she hunched. Was he going to yell at her for interrupting? She was making a great impression on him so far she thought, with a mental roll of her eyes.

But he didn't look mad. He wasn't even scowling. Instead, he jerked his head toward her car and her eyes widened: a universal "come here" motion.

He held something out as she approached. When she saw it, her eyebrows raised. "That's it?" she asked.

He nodded. A small, round piece of metal sat in his tanned palm. The wheel bearing. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking for, but it did look sort of worn on the front and edge. It was hard to imagine that that little part was important for keeping her tires connected to the car.

Gajeel dropped the faulty part into a bowl on the cart and rubbed his hands on his coveralls, smearing grease over them. At least she knew how it got onto his face. She couldn't help but stare again—the gunk had marked a vertical line across all three of his nose piercings like a tic-tac-toe board.

He caught her grin and narrowed his eyes. "I got somethin' on my face or what?"

Levy could only nod and touched the side of her nose. Scowling, he turned away form her, pulling out a handkerchief from his coveralls and making liberal use of it.

When he turned back to her, the tips of his ears were just the lightest shade of red. Gajeel rubbed the back of his hair. "So uh, you want me to check all of 'em?"

"Would that be a good idea?"

Without really getting an answer, he shifted over to the driver's side of the car and started pulling stuff apart. Whenever he reached up, she got a good look at the way his muscles flexed. He probably didn't need to hit the gym if he did this sort of stuff all the time, she noted.

"Drive far on it?" he asked, his words muffled around a bolt sticking out of his mouth. Levy tried not to make a face—it probably tasted gross.

"I go to Magnolia a couple times a week, but mostly I stay in town," she answered.

He continued taking her wheel apart and then pulled a face. It made his piercings move in interesting ways. Taking the other wheel bearing down, he showed it to her.

"Iffy," he said.

Honestly, she couldn't really tell what they were supposed to look like either way. But if the car was already here and the other bearing was going bad, now would be the time to get everything done. She didn't fancy having to come to the mechanic's every week. Although, maybe with this new place...

"Is it going to break soon?"

Gajeel shrugged, making his dark mane flop. "Hard to predict. Some last hundreds of miles and others snap just turnin' out of the driveway."

Levy nodded. Best to not take chances then. Other places might've just done the job she asked for and that's it. She appreciated making sure something else wasn't going to go wrong a week later.

"May as well replace all the bad ones then. Thanks for checking, Mr. Redfox," she told him, meaning it.

"Gajeel."

She tilted her head to the side. "Huh?"

"The old man is Mr. Redfox," he said, jerking his chin toward the front office where Metalicana was still doing something on the computer. She could only nod as he turned back to the car.

He didn't say much more as checked the other two tires. Thankfully, those bearings were fine, so it was just the front two that needed to be replaced. He worked pretty quickly, knowing his way around the shop and locating everything he needed in smooth motions. It was almost like watching a dance. She was pretty sure she knew what his response would be to that, too.

"Hey, short stack," he called, and Levy snapped back to reality. From his tone, it sort of sounded like he'd been calling a while. She rubbed her head sheepishly.

Gajeel nodded his head toward the desk. "Should be a form set up on that computer. Fill out your name and stuff," he directed.

Her brow furrowed as she sat down. Wasn't that strictly something the employees were supposed to take care of? "That's okay for me to do?"

He grunted and started shifting through parts. "Don't wanna get shit on the keys."

She watched for another minute, but he ignored her and concentrated on his job. Shrugging, she shook the mouse and woke the monitor. While she waited a second, she got nosy. Tiny scraps of paper littered the desk. They all had the same scrawl etched across them, some more faded than others. Levy ran her fingers over the pieces.

Writing was captivating. It could be so elegant—or awful—but it was unique to each person, sort of like a mini-language of the user's creation. This wasn't neat, per se, but there was an orderly feel about it. The letters were slightly slanted with sharp points, and even if it wasn't the most legible handwriting she'd ever seen, it was at least consistent. Was it Metalicana's? He seemed to do a lot of paperwork; at least, he sat at the front desk a lot.

When the computer woke up, she found the form already pulled up, just like Gajeel said. It was pretty straightforward. The top half had blank boxes for her name, phone number, and address. She filled all those out. There was also a spot for procedure, and although she didn't know completely what Gajeel was doing, she knew it had to do with the front two wheel bearings, so she typed that in too.

Then she noticed the parts list. It was clickable. Curious, she checked it out, her eyes widening when it opened up a database with all the pieces named. The format is what got her attention really. At the library, they used a similar system for book checkouts so they could keep track of inventory. It didn't surprise her that businesses had a process for that too.

It made her lips quirk up. All languages were the same on some level.

A lot of the part names were foreign and confusing to her, but just because she could, she scrolled down until she found one with "wheel bearing" in the name. There were only two. If she was correct, just like at her work, selecting a part would take it off the database and onto the form, keeping current stock updated. She imaged that was pretty handy if they had a lot of customers.

She clicked on one of the parts, but then the screen flashed. A small dialogue box popped up with an error. On her form, it hadn't transferred—at least, not correctly, if the weird symbols were anything to go by. The part was also still listed in the database and not removed like it should be.

Levy pursed her lips. Something hadn't gone right in the coding.

A blue-bound book propped up next to the monitor caught her eye. The title of the database was printed across the front. It was an installation manual. Was this system new?

Cautiously, she leaned forward and peered into the front room. Metalicana was still doing something at the front counter. Gajeel was busy underneath her car, his back to her.

Would a quick peek hurt anything?

She drummed her fingers lightly against the desk for a count of ten before she picked up the book. Then, she began to do what she did best: read.

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Thanks for reading! Hopefully the next part done soon. It all depends on my term projects.


	6. Chapter 6

Home stretch at uni. Please bear with me until its done!

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"So that's what yer doin'."

Levy screeched and tipped backward in her chair as she jumped—only Metalicana's quick hand kept the seat's four legs on the ground.

Gajeel jerked his head up to stare at her when she yelled, but Levy only barely registered what was happening. A hand had flown up to her mouth after she shrieked, and her heart was trying to escape from her ribs as it knocked incessantly against her chest. There was a roaring in her ears, but just beyond that she caught the shop owner's hearty rumble echoing behind her.

"Oi, you lost it, old man?" Gajeel called from underneath her car. He wiped his hands on a grease-stained rag and raised a metal-studded brow.

Metalicana ignored him and pointed toward the desktop screen, leaning down so he didn't tower over her. Her heart slowed down gradually.

"You got it working?" he asked her, and she nodded mutely, still slightly in shock.

He made a waving motion, so she showed him what she had done to the database. Using her form as an example, she used the button to browse and selected the only other wheel bearing part on the list. Unlike the last time, it disappeared from the server and appeared on her form under the parts box, just like it was supposed to.

Metalicana laughed again and her chair wobbled. "Thought we had the parts we needed for yer car, but then when I looked again, there was only one. Was gonna head across town to get another, but looks like that ain't needed."

Levy's cheeks grew warm. She was suddenly aware that Gajeel was still watching her. "I'm sorry for messing with it!" she rushed out, burying her head in her hands.

Honestly, she hadn't meant to do more than look at the manual, but then she'd started clicking on the computer, and before she knew it, she was looking at the code for the program and tinkering with it. She knew better than to muck around with a business' stuff!

"Nah," Metalicana said, leaning up and heading toward the main room. "Been tryin' to figure it out for a while."

"If we'd left it to Gajeel, we'd still be using hand-written books," a new voice said.

Levy snapped her head up to see a tall, dark-skinned man wearing the standard coverall stride into the garage. He had a scar over one of his eyes but there were laugh lines on his face—plus, it was hard not to return the grin he wore. Gajeel scowled at the man and moved some things around on his cart.

"As you can see, Gajeel tries to kill as many trees as possible," the man said, waving at the notes on the desk.

Levy's eyebrows rose, taking in the scribbles on the paper scraps. She'd assumed they were Metalicana's, but apparently they were Gajeel's. Absently, she ran her fingers over one. He didn't seem like a traditional sort of guy.

A tool came down on the cart with a sharp bang, and Gajeel grumbled, "No one asked you, Lil'."

Levy rose as the man came toward the desk. "Levy McGarden," she said as she held out a hand to shake. He accepted and she added, "Mr...?"

"Just Lily is fine." He stopped to look at the desk and let out a low whistle. "How'd you do it?"

She twiddled her fingers together. "Languages are sort of my thing," she said after a pause. "Computer languages are sort of like speech—there are still patterns and codes to follow..."

Then, she lost herself in technical jargon, relating this system to her library's and all the intricacies of what she had done. She didn't realize she was sort of babbling until she caught Gajeel's bewildered expression as he rubbed the back of his head. Lily just laughed and thanked her when she finished.

Sitting back down, she noticed Gajeel still looking at her strangely, a wrench halfway in the air. She tilted her head in confusion.

"You're somethin' else," he said. "I have absolutely no idea what yer talkin' about."

Her blush climbed higher on her face at his words. Before she could comment—even if she'd had a response to that—he turned back around and continued work on her car.

The front door opened a couple times as more people started coming in. It had to be afternoon by now. A few of them looked at her through the hall door. Did her sitting here look bad to other people? Nobody said anything, but she couldn't quite shake the uneasiness that settled into her gut. Yet even though the shop was getting busier, they didn't ask her to leave the garage.

As Lily drove another car into the other bay, a few beams of light snuck in as the rain started to let up. The breeze blowing in was more humid, and combined with the generators and other machinery running, Levy could feel how warm the room had gotten. She brushed her hair back from her neck and lifted it out of the collar of the coverall, fighting the urge to lower the zipper just a tiny bit. If she slouched down behind a book, would anyone notice?

And she wasn't the only one feeling the heat. Gajeel swiped at his brow, smudging more grease on his forehead. She could see the slight sheen and how the edges of his headband looked damp. With all that lifting and moving around, not to mention triple the hair she had, he had to be dying.

Gajeel twisted around, and the piercing on his arm flashed from the overhead light. Levy bit her lower lip. Absently, she leaned forward and rested her chin in her palm as she watched him. He really wasn't so bad once she got past the caustic first moments.

A cough caught her attention. Snapping up straight, she saw Lily wave. He followed her line of sight to Gajeel and then grinned at her. Mortified, Levy tried to disappear into her coverall.

"Miss Levy, would you mind hitting that switch on the wall for the fan?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

She stood sharply, berating herself as she turned the fan on. What was she, some silly high-schooler with a crush? That's what she was acting like. As much as Lily's noticing it was embarrassing, he at least had the decency not to tease her—openly at least. So far.

Gulping, she returned to her seat and picked up the database manual. She really needed to step her game up. If only it hadn't been so long since she'd been on a date.

.

.

Gajeel could admit that this wasn't his fastest job ever—but that wasn't his fault. He was a little distracted.

Distracted by a five foot nothing midget wearing one of his damn coveralls.

Every few minutes, his eyes would track over to where she was sitting—or standing, since she'd been nosy a few times. The bookshelf got rearranged too. He couldn't tell from under her car, but it looked pretty neat and might actually see some use. Gajeel didn't care, and the old man wouldn't mind—after the database thing, he was pretty sure she could do no wrong. The bastard had been in more of a cheery mood all day than he had in the past week.

And okay, maybe Gajeel was a little impressed. Or at least intrigued. He'd tried to figure that thing out for weeks and was ready to smash it with his favorite wrench before Shorty came along.

He tightening a stupid fussy bolt when Lily came through the hall door with a Styrofoam cup of coffee and set it down on the desk next to the shrimp. She quietly thanked him but didn't stop reading—it was sort of creepy how she focused solely on that manual. He kinda doubted it was interesting enough for that sort of intensity.

Was that how she did most things in her life? The thought twisted his lips upward slightly.

Catching him staring, Lily gave him one of those _looks_. The kind that warped his scar and raised Gajeel's hackles. He could do without Lily's stupid grin too. Reminded him too much of his old man.

The woman reached a hand out for the coffee without looking at it. Honestly, he expected her to refuse it—if she didn't look at it, at least after she tasted it. He knew what their coffee was like. It was gritty and black as they could stand, and his old man was pretty tolerant. Gajeel could barely even stomach the stuff.

Besides, didn't her types like that girly coffee with lots of flavors and fancy shit?

But when she took a sip and calmly set the cup back down, Gajeel could only stare. There was no spitting, disgusted curl of her lips, or crunching of the nose. She drank it and didn't even blink. Well shit.

And dammit if she didn't look at home among all the grease and dirt, too, perched up at that desk like it was in any old office or classroom and not at a mechanic's. It was a little unsettling. The shop was like his lair if he'd been some magical predator—and everyone knew dragons were the most badass. Shorty should've been an intruder, but she fit right in. And he wasn't that bothered by it.

It was probably the view.

She'd pulled glasses out of somewhere, and somehow, instead of pushing them back up her nose when they slid down, she was too absorbed and leaned forward. The chair was a bit higher than the desk, and the way she squeezed her shoulders together to hold that book made sure to emphasize the triangle of skin under her neck and shoulders. Hair was swept back too, in all the right ways.

It was that damn collarbone again.

Shorty scratched her nose but didn't notice the dark smudge it left behind. Gajeel laughed quietly to himself—served her right for laughing at him!

But the streak of grease on her face returned him to that world with the low-cut top and wrenches. Dammit. He needed a distraction from his distractions.

"Any other problems with it?" he called out before thinking. Thinking hadn't done him any favors today.

She stuck a bookmark on her page—one of his hand-written notes—and thought for a second before answering. Finally, she shook her head. "Heirloom from my dad, but I haven't had any trouble. Unless that line has problems I don't know about?"

Gajeel shrugged and reached up into the wheel-well. "Just watch it. Had a car once that ate bearings—got expensive."

Her beaming at him should not be so self-satisfying. Glancing over to the side, Lily gave him another look with two raised brows.

Gajeel scowled at him.

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Thank you for reading and to the anonymous reviewers!


	7. Chapter 7

On the home stretch now! Thank you to all the guest/anonymous reviewers!

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"That where you go to school?"

Levy snapped her head up from the desk. She'd been comparing a row of Gajeel's notes to see if she could determine his mood when he wrote them. Over half had letters tightly grouped together. Judging from some of the content, this was the style when he was annoyed.

Gajeel had paused in his work to look over his shoulder, arms holding something up above his head. Maybe it was the distracting way he posed—dark mane falling down his back, piercings gleaming, muscle flexing as he twisted—that made his question go right over her head. Why was he so exotic?

"Huh?" she finally managed, tilting her head.

"Magnolia. You take classes there?"

She tried to ignore the amused glint in his eyes. On the other side of the shop, Lily coughed.

"Oh, yeah. Part-time." Levy rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I work at the library in town most days."

Gajeel finished whatever he was working on and rubbed the back of his neck, holding his thick hair up for a second as the fan blew air around. She almost missed it, but he snuck a glance at her when he reached up to scratch his ear. Was it a little red? Or was it just the heat?

He slid tools around on the cart next to him, almost absently. If she hadn't been watching him so intently, she would've missed the second look he gave her. He seemed to be hesitating. Dilly-dallying. Did he actually want to talk to her?

The sudden rush of butterflies in her stomach shouldn't have been so nice. His sudden shyness was adorable.

Levy nibbled on her lip before getting up and hovering closer, hands clasped behind her back. From the way he rotated just a fraction, she knew he noticed.

"Do you take classes too?" she asked him.

Gajeel grunted his affirmation and seemingly remembered what he wanted the cart for as he picked out a tool. Levy held back her smile as he tried not to pay attention to her. It was a little surprising she hadn't seen him around her uni really—but he wasn't one of those she could forget.

Encouraged by him actually responding—sort of—she asked him more questions. Despite the sometimes lengthy silences and pausing to make repairs, she found out that he took mechanic classes in Magnolia. She asked how long he'd been working there (six years, since he was sixteen—which made him the same age as her) and if he planned on taking over the business ("Well I ain't runnin' off to join the circus.").

Beyond the fact that getting personal answers out of him was like pulling teeth, he was decent conversation. His snarkiness made her laugh, and if she asked the right questions, he was willing to explain how stuff worked.

After a short while, Metalicana let her know her dress was dry. Excusing herself, she went to change, though she kept Gajeel's handkerchief since she didn't have another headband.

Back in the shop, the orange dress felt weird. She was much more aware of the fan at least. The air kept blowing her skirt up if she stood in the wrong place—Lucy often complained about this problem.

She turned to ask Gajeel something else but trailed off when she noticed him staring. After a second, he blinked and looked up at her face, much higher than he _had_ been. His ears were slightly red.

"You always ask so many questions, Shrimp?" he roughed out, fiddling with something on the cart.

Levy tried to hide her smile. "I like to know things."

"Hadn't noticed," he said dryly.

But, she thought, as she folded her arms behind her back, he did notice _some_ things about her. She swung back and forth slightly as she looked at more awards plastered on the walls.

And if Levy chose to stay in his line of sight in case he wanted to notice _other_ things, that was her business.

.

.

Fuck but that dress was short.

She hadn't put her jacket back on, leaving that seriously tiny orange scrap on view for the shop to see. It stuck out glaringly—maybe that was why he kept looking over there.

Except that was a lie. If she bent over _at all_, he was going to get a good panty-shot. It barely covered her ass as it was.

And short or not, it emphasized other... features about her. Sure, she didn't have much of a chest, but her legs weren't bad at all. They didn't go for days, but he bet she was a runner or something. Legs didn't get that nice by themselves, especially when she was so shrimpy. They were toned and curved in all the right places, leading his eyes up to her—

His pops strode in then, knocking on the wall to get his attention. That bastard was still grinning.

"Brat," he called, and the curve of his eyes set Gajeel's hackles straight up. "We all enjoy Miss McGarden's company, but you got three more jobs to finish by the end of the day. Stop starin' at her."

"You fuckin' with me, old man?"

Three more jobs when it was past noon? The hell was that. He purposefully ignored the other part of his old man's spiel. The laughter as the bastard trailed back into the main room was getting on his nerves, though.

"Language, Gajeel. Lady present," Lily shot from the other half of the garage.

Levy waved him off with a flash of a smile, focused on scribbling something onto a note. She didn't say anything about his old man's words either.

Gajeel was really pretty close to being done with the car. And maybe he _was_ working a little slower than normal—even if his pops could go to hell.

Tightening the next bolt on the car was a bitch. He swore, sharply, two more times until it finally cooperated with him.

Under the hood of a truck that had a dent in the driver door, Lily shot him another look, narrowing his eyes.

"Power words," Gajeel defended, shrugging. Then, he glanced at Shorty. She was biting her lip as she stared fiercely at whatever she was reading. She didn't notice that she was kneading it, but Gajeel sure as shit did.

"'Sides," he added, wishing he couldn't see that bare skin. The halter top wasn't much better than the coverall. "Short stuff here's got a _thing_ for language, yeah?"

His voice carried over to her enough to make squeak at first. But then she grinned. She was a little red in the face too, bringing a smirk to his face.

When he turned back to the front passenger wheel-well, Lily had both eyebrows raised. Then he got a devious grin, which Gajeel would've normally been happy to get in on. He had a bad feeling about this one.

"Gajeel Redfox, are you _flirting_?" he asked, low enough that Shorty didn't hear.

Gajeel scoffed. Lily acted like it was hard to believe. It's not like he did it often, but he knew _how._ But that wasn't the damn point.

"Ain't."

"Uh... huh," Lily said, but the look he gave said he wasn't buying.

Gajeel's stomach about dropped out when Lily flashed his teeth in a fierce grin, like a cat in the cream.

"Well, then," he started, and every muscle in Gajeel tensed as Lily raised his voice. It echoed. "When you're done _not flirting_, come here, would you?"

And Gajeel knew she heard because the pen in her hand dropped and went sliding across the floor.

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Thanks for reading! This story is nearly done.


	8. Chapter 8

Here we are at the end! Thank you to all my readers and reviewers (both guest and not)!

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By the time her car was done, Levy's blazing cheeks had settled down a little. She was still suspicious of Metalicana's grin, though.

He slid the finalized paperwork over for her to sign and pay, tapping his fingers idly on the desk. She took one look at it and frowned, bringing it closer to her face as her brow furrowed.

"This doesn't look right," she said.

The form was a printable version of the one she'd filled out on the computer. However, the only things listed with price were the parts. There was no labor fee. She'd seen the database—she knew what the parts cost, and the total was just that amount.

Metalicana just shrugged when she rose a brow. Looking behind her, Lily was fiddling with the coffee machine. Her nose had finally adjusted where she could smell the grounds over the ever-present oil scent. Was that a smirk on his face too?

"The brat set it up," the shop owner said. "He probably knew what he was doing."

While the tone was skeptical—and to which part, she wasn't sure—Metalicana's easy smile said he wasn't bothered by it. In the garage, her car sparked to life, and the crunching of tires told her Gajeel was driving it around.

Since Metalicana wasn't doing anything to rework the bill, Levy paid and gathered the receipt to stick in her glove box—a habit she picked up from her dad. She hovered a moment by the door, jacket slung over her arm, but nobody chased her down to say she still owed them.

Instead, Metalicana called out, "Yer welcome back any time."

Lily waved as he went into the garage, but he was laughing. So was the shop owner. Levy had a sinking feeling she was missing something.

A burst of rock music filled her ears as she opened the door, cutting off seconds later as Gajeel killed the engine. Puffing her cheeks out, she stomped outside, the bell jingling above her. So what if he was a little charming (in a strange way) or nice to look at—he couldn't just manipulate his service! She believed in fairness, and she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

Her steps started out heavy and determined on the now-dry ground, but she abruptly lost momentum when she spotted Gajeel leaning against her car hood, arms crossed casually.

It was like looking at a glossy calendar picture—only he was real. His piercings gleamed in the sun that peeked out through the clouds, and his naturally-tanned skin went complimented his dark hair perfectly. Even all the grease wasn't unattractive. It just showed off how hard he worked.

It wasn't fair to be that sexy. And the worst part was that he probably knew what she was thinking, since he was smirking.

"Like what you see, Shrimp?"

She gave herself a second to admit mentally that yes, she did. Then she crossed her arms and gave him a flat stare.

"It's _Levy_," she insisted. "What did you do to my bill?"

His grin got wider, if possible. "What's it look like, _short stuff_?" he stressed, mocking her. "A bookworm like you knows how to read."

Levy huffed and just barely managed to avoid stamping her foot, since that'd make her look about five. "Fix it," she demanded.

Gajeel shrugged a shoulder, the action almost identical to his father's. "I figure you put in yer own work," he said. Then, he brushed a finger across his nose—just like she had earlier.

Eyes widening, she reached up to wipe at her own, only to come away with a thick, black mark. She abruptly made a very undignified noise as she turned around and attempted to rub it off. Just how long had that been there?

"Gihee!" she heard behind her. His continued laughing told her that her strange makeup was there quite a while—that sort of laughter was built up.

When she was sure her cheeks outshone her dress in brightness, she heard the jingling of keys. Gajeel held them out but wasn't moving.

With a sigh, she steeled what was left of her dignity and went to take them. Just before her fingers brushed the keys, he abruptly yanked them away from her, dangling them above her head.

Levy pouted and fixed him with a glare, but he just laughed and kept her keys where they were. The rattled as he shook them. When she jumped to try and reach them, failing spectacularly, he grinned. He was too damn tall!

"What's the matter, Shorty?" he teased.

Not about to give up, she tried again. This time, she braced one hand on his shoulder for a boost.

Leaping up into the air, a finger touched the metal. She cried out in victory before Gajeel yanked them backwards.

Unfortunately, that meant he took a step back too, jarring the hand that was braced against him. In a jerky motion, she stumbled right into him.

Her nose squished into his chest, and her fingers shot out to hook into the nearest latching point, which was his coverall. Gajeel's hand shot out to steady her too, wrapping around her waist and pulling her toward him so she didn't fall face-first into the dirt.

Everything stopped for a second. She could feel warm breath reflecting back onto her face. Where he touched her waist was like fire.

For just a moment, she imagined it was real. Then she realized they were in full view of the shop window. Levy _really_ hoped Metalicana and Lily weren't watching from inside. She didn't have the nerve to check.

With an awkward cough, Gajeel seemed to realize how they looked too. He let her go and she took a couple steps back. This time, he handed her keys over without a word. She took them but couldn't make her heart stop pounding. Her hands seemed to automatically run through her hair for something to do.

"Oh," she said when her fingers trailed over his handkerchief. "This is yours."

She was poised to undo her hair when Gajeel shook his head. "Nah, keep it. You can return it next time I see ya."

For the second time that day, he reached out to ruffle her hair. Levy's nose wrinkled and she swatted at him, but it was only halfheartedly.

Arching a brow, she said, "And if there isn't a next time?"

His cocky stance withered a little bit, but it was barely noticeable. Gajeel did scratch the back of his head, though, and his ears were red—but maybe that was from their close encounter. Still, Levy found it adorable how he could be so full of himself one moment and fumbling the next. He probably also sang in the shower and had cute cat plushies hidden in his bedroom.

A part of her wanted to find out.

Gajeel scuffed his boots against the ground and was pointedly avoiding her gaze. That was what sold her really. He didn't seem like just some egotistical jerk.

"Then again," she drew out, making him snap his head up. "You know Natsu, and I know Lucy. And they hang out all the time..."

The heat in her cheeks flared up again and she took a step forward, reaching for a tiny scrap of paper folded into her dress. "...So chances are pretty good," she finished.

Then, she gathered her courage. She had to do it now. The paper was burning a hole in her pocket.

Before she lost her nerve, she slid the note with her number into the front pocket of his coveralls.

"Call me if you think I need a tune-up!" she rushed out.

From the look on his face, it would be pretty soon.

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And we're done! This fic was a little bit fluffier while I'm still getting the hang of this fandom. Any feedback on how to improve in the future is greatly appreciated!


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